


Little Shit

by Belbo_Baggins



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 19:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4718462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belbo_Baggins/pseuds/Belbo_Baggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PIetro has gotten hurt on a mission</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Shit

The existence of my fingernails was becoming extremely scarce, having gnawed at them in anticipating and fear of who would arrive next. The person who decided that I was the designated driver for this mission, was going to get shot in the foot.

Hearing the heave of the backseat sliding door, instantly drew my attention to the three shield agents who jumped in the van. Breathing heavily, they took a seat and strapped themselves in, whilst getting ready for their speedy escape. They debriefed me, on what had gone down at the raid. Still panting slightly, as they explained that they had been caught between the cross fire of two rival gangs, within the area.

“Where is Maximoff?” I rushed out exasperated.

I wasn’t given any indication, as to where he was, or what had happened to him as the gun fire had broken out. Turning in my seat, I faced them, with a long glare, longing for any clues of recognition among their blank faces. I was met with a mere shake of the head, whilst another explained that Maximoff had run off, yelling at Nat in Russian. Nat could, ofcourse, take care of herself and she had back up in the form of Clint and Steve who were waiting for her in the ship sitting across the dock.

Within a matter of minutes, four more shield agents dressed in black, and armed with guns and taser sticks hauled themselves into the van.

Shouting out the names of the agents, that were carefully scrawled on the checklist, it was evident that Pietro and Agent Alan were still missing. No one had seen them during the raid and their com links weren’t working. The new additions had informed us all, that there were tracking chips being attached to everyone’s shoulders which threatened to cause an imminent danger to the agents. As a precaution I made sure a strip search was conducted in the back of the van.

Thankfully there were no chips, yet there were still two agents to account for.

Just my luck.

Thousands of scenarios ran through my mind, as I imagined my shock horror at finding him dead on the side of the road. It was something that I never wanted to think about but within my line of work, it was an inevitable, occupational hazard.

“There!” Agent Hood shouted, as she swung herself out the door, whilst I slowed down.

Pietro and Alan, were limping towards us, both equally covered in dust and dirt, with bloody scrapes loitering their bare skin as torn bits of clothing scarcely hung onto their bruised and battered figures. Hood raced towards them, gripping onto Alan as she helped him slowly walk towards the now stationary van. She had offered help to Pietro too but being the proud son a bitch he was, he declined and continued to carefully drag himself towards the van whilst refusing to show an ounce of pain. At one point, Pietro stumbled forward falling onto his hands and knees. With my hand already clutching the handle of the door, I swung the metal constraint open, ready to jump out and grab him but he stood up again, and controlled his balance before starting to progress into a light limp; job over.

‘That bastard!’ I internally groaned.

He knew that every time he went out on a mission, I would worry about him, I would worry that he would get too tired or end up getting hurt and yet he had the nerve to knowingly scare me.

He continued to lightly jog over, jumping into the van with a smile so wide he may as well have come to meet Usain Bolt.

Once he was safely in his seat, he leaned over to give me a kiss while mumbling something in Russian.

“You think that was funny?” I Shouted in an instant, startling him, as the prospect of attaching my lips to his own now seemed foreign.

I slapped him on the chest, and pushed him back against his side of the door. He laughed and touched the spot where I hit him, rubbing at it, though I doubt it hurt him.

“It was. You should have seen your face.” He expelled in between burst of laughter.

I reached over towards him again and he braced himself for another slap but at that moment I yanked up his shirt and searched his now bare torso and shoulder for any traces of a chip or micro bug which could have been implanted during the raid. Turning his shoulders with my wrist, I took a glimpse at his back, before I pushed him forward over the console, and crawled behind him to get a better look. We were at an awkward angle, but I would rather have found out then whether or not he was bugged as opposed to after an ambush upon the Avenger’s base.

There was nothing on him, which was good. I sighed, releasing a breath I had been holding. He was safe.

Crawling back into my driver’s seat position, I looked at my silver haired superhero. A few scrapes and bruises loitered his face, whilst strokes of drying blood and dirt, were painted across his skin at the edges of his hairline. His once perfect suit had been slashed across his arm, but that would take simple needlework to repair it. The major damage however, was that which I would soon give him when we got to base. Some major ass-kicking. It was comfortably silent as I drove the van back to base.

Pietro cleared his throat whilst looking off into the distance.

“I did hurt myself, you know.” he explained, lifting his feet up onto the dashboard.

“I sprained my ankle.” He giggled.

He had complete satisfaction, in knowing that I constantly worried about him. He pushed himself up, pressing a soft kiss on my jaw before leaning back into his seat grinning.

He was a little shit, and he knew it.


End file.
